Traveling Through Those Years Of Farming (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 1

“Lady Hua, please come to my house and take a look! I don’t know which deity my grandson has offended, but he’s dazed and spouting nonsense after coming back from outside.”

That evening, as the family was eating dinner, an elderly woman with a scarf wrapped around her head burst in. She grabbed the woman in the room and pleaded with her to leave with her immediately.

“Wait.”

The woman, known as Lady Hua, gently pushed the old woman’s hand away. She focused her gaze, closed her eyes, and began counting with her fingers.

“Lady Hua, what’s wrong?”

The elderly woman grew flustered. She touched her face and tugged nervously at the hem of her collar, unsure of what to do.

Lady Hua remained silent, her expression grave. The air grew tense, and the old woman dared not speak further. Instead, she waited patiently, beads of sweat forming on her forehead and dripping down her cheeks. Panicked yet unwilling to interrupt the ritual, she tried to distract herself by observing the surroundings.

The main hall of the house was modest, an old wooden structure with high beams, nearly as tall as the newly built two-story homes of the wealthier villagers. A long table stood against the wall opposite the main door, adorned with a collection of wooden tablets. These were not ancestral tablets of the Sheng family but representations of Hu Huang Chang Mang, the Five Great Immortals. Among them, the tablet of Huang Daxian took center stage, the largest and most prominent of all.

The Five Great Immortals—Hu, Huang, Bai, Liu, and Hui—were local guardian deities: Hu represented the Fox Immortal, Huang the Weasel Immortal, Bai the Hedgehog Immortal, Liu the Snake Immortal, and Hui the Mouse Immortal. Villagers believed these spirits lived alongside humans, capable of both good and evil. By worshiping them, one could receive their blessings.

Lady Hua’s real name was Hua Yingpo, an orphan raised by a hunter who found her abandoned in the mountains. The hunter, childless himself, had taken her in and cared for her. However, when Hua Yingpo was seven, tragedy struck. The hunter fell into a mountain pit while hunting and was found days later, his body already decomposing. Once again, Hua Yingpo became an orphan.

During a severe drought, food was scarce, and the villagers, desperate and superstitious, turned against her. Some claimed that her strong fate brought misfortune, saying her biological family had abandoned her to escape disaster. They even blamed the hunter’s death and the drought on her supposed ill fortune, labeling her a “disaster star.”

Life became unbearable for the young girl. No one cared for her, and others competed for the wild fruits and roots she foraged. If not for the faint glimmer of humanity left in their hunger-stricken hearts, they might have beaten her to death.

By autumn, Hua Yingpo disappeared. The villagers assumed she had died and hoped the drought would end with her. But the drought persisted, and harvests remained poor for three years. Only later did they learn that the famine had afflicted much of China.

In the summer of 1963, two years after the drought, Hua Yingpo returned. By then, the villagers had enjoyed a relatively better harvest and started expanding their private plots, raising chickens and ducks. But soon, weasels began raiding the chicken coops, stealing and killing the prized birds. The losses devastated the villagers, who saw chickens as both food and income.

People took desperate measures, even bringing chickens indoors to sleep alongside them, enduring the stench of droppings. Yet, the cunning weasels tunneled through walls and snatched the birds. Some villagers, frustrated, slaughtered their chickens to preserve what little they had, pickling the meat for survival.

The situation worsened until the production team convened to find a solution. It was then that Hua Yingpo reappeared.

At eleven years old, she was frail and pale, her small frame resembling that of an eight-year-old. She wore the same tattered clothes from her disappearance, now full of holes, exposing her thin arms and legs. Her bare feet were hardened with calluses.

Standing before the assembly, Hua Yingpo declared that she had been chosen by the Yellow Immortal and was now its servant. While the villagers were skeptical, their doubts turned to fear when Hua Yingpo suddenly began shaking violently and dancing erratically. After a moment, she froze in a strange posture, her head tilted back to reveal only the whites of her eyes.

When she spoke again, her voice was deep and masculine.

The “possessed” Hua Yingpo introduced herself as Huang Xian’er, claiming responsibility for the chicken thefts. The chickens, she explained, were tributes owed to the immortal. If the villagers worshiped Huang Xian’er and offered proper tributes, the immortal would bless them with abundant harvests and favorable weather. She warned that Hua Yingpo’s unique fate made her the only one capable of bearing such divine possession. The villagers could consult her with offerings for guidance and protection.

After delivering this message, Hua Yingpo danced again before returning to her normal state, though her voice was hoarse from the ordeal.

The villagers, already familiar with tales of the Five Great Immortals, were divided. Some believed her, while others remained skeptical.

Hua Yingpo moved back to her late adoptive father’s home on the mountainside. Strangely, the chicken thefts ceased, and the village’s autumn harvest surpassed expectations. Convinced it was Huang Xian’er’s blessing, more villagers came to believe Hua Yingpo was indeed the immortal’s mouthpiece.

The locals are highly superstitious. Since then, people have frequently sought out Hua Yingpo to predict their fortunes, from the dates for weddings and funerals to selecting names for their children. Additionally, she became the go-to person for summoning spirits or seeking guidance about their ancestors.

Over the years, Hua Yingpo’s predictions have almost always been accurate, and her reputation steadily grew. Eventually, people from surrounding production teams learned of the witch in Xiaoyanggang production team, a woman with a strange horoscope, who was believed to be favored by Huang Daxian. Out of respect, the villagers stopped calling her by name, instead referring to her as Lady Hua.

During the period of the “Four Olds” movement, a group of energetic Red Guards came to Hua Yingpo’s adoptive father’s house, smashed the altar, overturned the tablet of the guardian deity, and dragged Hua Yingpo out for re-education, even shaving her head into a “yin-yang” style.

That night, the student who had caused the most trouble suffered a large fire at his home. Fortunately, the neighbors were alert and managed to wake up the family, allowing them to escape before the fire could spread. If they hadn’t acted in time, the whole family would have been burned alive.

Once the fire was put out, claw marks resembling those of a weasel were found on the walls, and a distinct weasel odor lingered in the air.

Many believed that this was the vengeance of Huang Daxian.

At the time, Hua Yingpo was locked in a cowshed, so it was impossible for her to have orchestrated the incident. Moreover, she was a solitary figure with no relatives or close friends nearby who could help her carry out such a plan. 

The next day, Hua Yingpo was released, and although no one dared openly ask for her services due to the tense atmosphere, many were now fully convinced of the connection between her and Huang Daxian.

The children who had destroyed her altar and smashed the guardian deity’s tablet were sternly reprimanded by their parents. Subsequently, their families helped rebuild Hua Yingpo’s house at the foot of the mountain, which is where she and her family live to this day.

More than a decade later, the house remains in its original state, revealing just how frightened the villagers were at the time, fearing that any repair would anger Huang Daxian again.

The main hall of the house is quite empty. Aside from the altar, there is a square table in the center with four bamboo chairs around it.

The old woman noticed that no one was seated at the head of the table, where a set of bowls and chopsticks, along with a full bowl of rice, lay untouched. A glass of yellow wine sat next to it, half-filled.

This was the seat reserved for Huang Daxian, but the old woman dared not look at it for long. She quickly shifted her gaze to the side.

To the left of Huang Daxian’s seat sat Hua Yingpo, while to the right sat a man in his thirties. The old woman knew this man, named Sheng Wukun, was four years older than Hua Yingpo, making him thirty-eight. He had ordinary features—single eyelids, a high nose bridge with a slightly large tip, and lips of average thickness. His face was somewhat round, with a notably large head. If he were in a crowd, no one would give him a second glance.

Sheng Wukun had been brought back by Hua Yingpo from outside the village about seven or eight years ago. His background remained a mystery, and no one dared to ask Hua Yingpo about him.

People in the village believed he was an ominous figure. His eyes, they said, resembled an abyss—staring into them made it feel as though one’s soul was being pulled away.

It was also said that Sheng Wukun had some connection to Taoism and was skilled in mystical arts, equal to Hua Yingpo. There were instances when he helped summon lost souls in her absence, leading the villagers to believe the rumors even more.

The year Hua Yingpo brought this child home, she married him, and that same year, they had a daughter, who took his surname and was named Sheng Baobao.

The old woman glanced at the little girl. Though her parents were involved in the supernatural, Baobao was an ordinary child, at least for now. There had been no signs of any unusual behavior from her.

Sheng Baobao was a beautiful little girl who, despite her parents’ mysterious nature, had a light, pure aura around her, making her seem almost angelic.

Hua Yingpo likely didn’t want her daughter to follow in her footsteps. When Baobao turned six, she was sent to the commune’s primary school, where it was said she excelled academically. Many people even speculated that Hua Yingpo had used some of Huang Xian’s power to enhance her daughter’s intelligence.

Sheng Baobao noticed the old woman’s gaze and smiled at her politely after swallowing a mouthful of meatballs. With that smile, the old woman felt a weight lift off her chest, and her breathing became easier.

Baobao had only appeared in this body half a month ago. One moment, she had been at her deathbed, surrounded by her crying children and grandchildren, and the next, she found herself in this new life, inhabiting the body of Sheng Baobao.

She had originally thought that her previous life’s reincarnation was an accident—she had gained several more decades of life, with a loving family, a devoted husband, and obedient children. But little did she know, that was just the beginning…

Now that she had completely inherited the memories and emotions of the previous body, she could no longer distinguish whether she was the original Sheng Baobao or if this life was her reincarnation. The fever had triggered the memories of her past life.

As she adapted to this new world, the emotions from her past life started to fade, leaving her memories behind like a distant, black-and-white film. When she reflected on her previous life, she felt more like an observer than a participant.

Baobao still remembered her grandfather and mother, remembered the narcissistic Xiao Yuan, and remembered her children whom she had cherished like her own life. But all she could do now was remember; the emotions had been stripped away.

She didn’t know why she was brought into this world, who was behind it, or whether this world was the end of her journey.

Now that she was Sheng Baobao, she could only try to adapt and live well.

She glanced at the black mist hovering around the old woman’s chest, her heart racing. In this world, she could see things that ordinary people couldn’t. This ability had only emerged after her high fever.

So far, she had only witnessed two strange phenomena.

The first occurred with an elderly man in the village. One day, as Baobao was returning home from school, she saw the old man sitting in the shade of a tree, enjoying the cool breeze. Behind him was a shadow, twisted and indistinct.

At first, she thought it was a trick of the light, but when she looked again, the shadow seemed to notice her. It was an eerie, misty figure, and Baobao felt it gaze at her.

The cold, unsettling look made her freeze in fear, and she quickly ran home.

The next day, Baobao learned that the old man had passed away, and the family was preparing for his funeral.

It was then that Baobao realized the shadow she had seen could have been a soul-reaper.

Today was the second time she had witnessed the strange vision. Sheng Baobao suspected that this might be her golden finger in this world.

“Third Grandma, your grandson has brought back something unclean.”

At that moment, Hua Yingpo had finished her calculations. Her expression was slightly grim, as if she had encountered a difficult situation.

“Lady Hua, you must save my grandson!” The old woman was in a panic, looking helpless.

“Tell me honestly, has your grandson been to the grave mound behind the mountain?”

The grave mound behind the mountain, as Hua Yingpo referred to it, was a mass burial site in the village. It contained the remains of many unclaimed bodies, including civilians killed during the Anti-Japanese War and villagers who died in disasters.

Because of limited resources, the villagers had dug a large pit and buried the bodies together, setting up a few tombstones. Occasionally, during Qingming or the Double Ninth Festival, people would come to sweep the tombs of their ancestors and pull a few weeds. These unburied souls were not honored by anyone. They were not given offerings during the festival, and it was believed that ghosts who weren’t worshipped couldn’t pass on to the afterlife and instead became wandering spirits. Therefore, the graves on the back mountain were considered taboo. Children were repeatedly told not to approach the area, as their fragile fate made them more susceptible to being lured by wandering ghosts.

“You’re amazing, Lady Hua, really amazing. That little rascal made a bet with some classmates, saying he was brave enough to go to the graves on the back mountain, dig up a thorn, and bring it to school the next day to show them.”

The old woman was both angry and anxious. Her grandson was a premature baby and had been frail since childhood. To help him survive, the family had followed old folk remedies, raising him as a girl — dressing him in skirts, letting his hair grow long, and even piercing his ears. It wasn’t until he was eight and started attending school that he was dressed like a boy.

Many children from the same village attended the same school. They knew her grandson had been raised as a girl, and those troublesome boys had spread the word, causing him to be ridiculed as a “sissy.” The family had approached the school several times, but the teachers’ efforts to discipline the boys were always ineffective.

This time, the boy who had been bullying her grandson taunted him, saying that if he dug up a thorn from the mass grave, he wouldn’t be laughed at anymore.

Her grandson immediately agreed. For a timid child like him, actually going to the graves behind the mountain and picking a thorn was beyond comprehension.

The old woman knew about this because, first, she asked the classmates who sat with him and learned about the bet, and second, the thornbush in his hand gave it away. Normally, thorns were yellow-green or dark green, but the ones from the grave mound had a sinister look. The veins on the leaves were red, as if stained with blood.

The older generation claimed that this was the result of the resentment of the unhonored dead, and the blood from their corpses had tainted the roots and stems of the plants in that area.

The old woman was horrified when she realized her grandson had brought such a malevolent object back. The first person she thought of was Hua Yingpo. In this village, only she had the power to deal with ghosts and spirits.

“Lady Hua, the child is ignorant and didn’t mean to disturb the ancestors. He’s the only child in our family; please save him.” The old woman nearly dropped to her knees in front of Hua Yingpo.

“You’re only worried about your grandson, but you don’t realize what a powerful force he’s provoked. Now, your whole family is in great danger.” Hua Ying Po’s expression was serious, her brows furrowed, and her face darkened, scaring the old woman so much she almost fainted.

Sheng Baobao’s expression shifted slightly upon hearing her mother’s words. Did her mother sense something unusual about the old lady?

She had a vague feeling that the shadowy figure she saw the first time carried no malice. The old man had passed away naturally, so when the shadow looked at her, all she felt was a fleeting sense of fear. Before that, she wasn’t frightened by it, nor did she try to avoid it.

The aura radiating from the old lady’s chest, however, was something else entirely.

Obscure, oppressive, cruel… It felt like a beast struggling to break free, ready to spill blood at any moment.

That energy made her feel, Hey, I’m not the type to take advantage of someone else’s misfortune. After all these years, people know me, and I always follow the rules.

Hua Yingpo waved her hand, looking slightly melancholic from being misunderstood.

“I understand, I understand.” The old woman quickly clamped her mouth shut and breathed a sigh of relief.

In the past, when people in the village had encountered “great troubles,” Hua Yingpo would ask for a chicken, a duck, and five cakes to make offerings to Huang Xian. These were meant to “borrow” magic from Huang Xian to deal with troublesome matters.

Moreover, Hua Yingpo would require a fee of 50 yuan for her work, as exorcising evil spirits and dealing with monsters was a task that drained essence, blood, and magic. She needed this money to replenish her energy and buy necessary supplies.

Though this fee wasn’t small, it was not enough to bankrupt a family. The old woman’s son had gone to work in the south during the recent gold rush, and it was said that he could earn more than 100 yuan a month—far higher than the wages of local workers or cadres.

Every month, he sent 80 yuan back home. So when the old woman heard Hua Yingpo mention that everything would follow the “old rules,” she became even more convinced that Hua Yingpo was a kind person.

“I’ll go with you first to test the power of that thing.” Hua Yingpo said, turning back to the house and pulling out an old peach wood sword. “Bao’s father, stay at home and watch over the child. Don’t forget to check her homework.” Before leaving, Hua Yingpo reminded her husband.

Sheng Baobao wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she thought she saw her parents exchange a glance. She couldn’t quite figure out what that meant.

Author’s Note: 

Hua Yingpo: The plot makes me seem all powerful, but the author already spoiled that I’m a fraud in the title. I’m upset.